Hold Me Tight
by Pepto Abysmal
Summary: Harry is kidnapped and tortured by Death Eaters during his seventh year. He is rescued only to find out that he became pregnant during his ordeal. HPSS. Adult Themes.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter... or anyone else in this universe. It saddens me daily.

Summary:Harry is kidnapped and tortured by Death Eaters during his seventh year. He is rescued only to find out that he became pregnant during his ordeal. HPSS. Adult Themes.

Warnings: This is slash (two men in a romantic relationship) and there are hints of non-con (rape) in the very beginning. If you didn't realise, this is also mpreg (male pregnancy). If you can't stomach this, please leave.

~~HPSS~~

RunBreatheJumpRunBreathe

Blood pounded through his ears; big, wet beats sounded through his head.

Bump

Bump

Bump

RunBreatheDuckRunBreathe

His heels ached. His muscles burned. His lungs squeezed and were about to quit. Branches whipped at his face and left trails of bloody fire. Pain sprouted along his knee joints and down his shin as his legs jolted against the ground in a constant mind-numbing pattern.

Right. Left. Right. Left. Right Left. RightLeftRightLeftRightLeft.

His body was screaming at him.

Bursts of adrenaline that pumped through his body kept him going.

Sticky sweat matted his hair to his forehead. Salty tears rolled down his flushed face as cold air whipped at his eyes. His mouth fell open to allow his tongue to sweep through the salty drops on the corner of his mouth.

He was dizzy. Exhausted.

He kept running.

~~HPSS~~

_His teeth chattered involuntarily as he tucked his thin frame into a ball. His body was squashed into the corner; it held a modicum of safety for him. He let out a whimper as he peered around him. The darkness was closing in on him, he could feel it. It surrounded him, engulfed him, and suffocated him. But he would not panic. His eyes darted back and forth rapidly in the dank cell, looking for (and jumping at) the slightest movement. _

_He had no idea how long he had been here. Mere minutes? Eternity? _

_How did he get here?_

_Where was he?_

_There were no windows. No sign of life save for the occasional mouse that served to put him into cardiac arrest._

_His mouth was cottony; his lips were cracked and bleeding. His stomach burned and fizzed angrily at him._

_He was never going to get out of here. He was going to—_

_BANG!_

_A sharp slam sounded throughout the room and a blast of harsh light invaded the small space. His eyes watered and his heart pounded through his chest. It hurt. _

_He swallowed to force it back down to his ribcage. Blinking rapidly, he could feel hot tears running in clean trails down his dirty cheeks._

_Another sharp bang and the bittersweet light fled the room once more. _

_He closed his eyes tightly in an effort to calm his eyes, and his heart, down. But his heart pounded away, ignoring his efforts to sedate it. Slowly his eyes accommodated to the dark. _

_His mind tried to wrap around the events that had so suddenly become the focus of his mind. What had just happened? He squinted over at the area were the light had come from. Maybe his recently traumatized eyes might be playing tricks, but there was something over there. _

_Well, he knew there was only one way to find out._

_He, again, swallowed down his nervous heart; he did not want to go over there. His little corner was precious. But he was at the mercy of his captors. _

_Gathering his nerve, he slowly crawled over to the door. Cold, gritty stone dug into his palms and bit into his knees where his trousers were ripped open. He sniffled and tried to ignore how naked and open he felt away from his solitary corner. He felt like he was being stared at. Goosebumps erupted over his body and he gave a shiver. He just wanted to get back._

_Yes, there was something there!_

_The blurry object was a light gray in the dark room. He scooted over to gingerly touch it. He felt it—cold and smooth. He grasped it. It was a cup! _

_Holding the unassuming goblet, he pondered his options. It could be poison or something horrible but he was so thirsty and if they really wanted to poison him, he was sure they could come in and do it themselves. He surely couldn't do anything to stop it. He dipped a finger in the contents. It was not cool or refreshing in the least but to him it was the most precious gift. His mind already set, he lifted it gently in his hands and eagerly pressed it to his cracked and parched lips. _

_Placing the cup back down, he contentedly licked his lips. _

_Well that was not so bad. He thought with a relieved sigh. Nothing painful had happ—_

_He groaned as a cramp stabbed into his belly. Pained heat flushed through his abdomen. In the back of his mind, a voice scolded him for speaking too soon. The awful bolt of lightening grew until his whole stomach area was burning and twisting. A small whimper escaped his lips. He clutched his arms tightly around his body. His insides squirmed around and it hurt so bad! _

_Through the pain, his ears caught onto a deeply amused chuckle. His heart skipped a beat._

_Someone was in there with him. _

_He gritted his teeth. It had been poisoned. _

_He would not scream._

~~HPSS~~

He could hear whispers around his head.

Smatterings of hushed voices-- hurried footsteps and worried tones.

They were talking about him.

Warm light seeped through his closed lids as he kept still, suddenly fully conscious. Soft cotton enfolded his body in a safe wrap. He could smell the familiar scent of disinfectant.

"The poor lad. What will we do, Albus?"

It was a woman's voice—Professor McGonagall's, he concluded. He was in the Hogwarts Infirmary and 'Albus'. Albus, Albus, Albus. He repeated the name in his head. A comforting mantra.

The headmaster was here.

He felt his tight chest loosen slightly. Dumbledore was here. Tears welled up, blurring the bright light seeping through. He felt panic creeping. Sobs caught in his throat. He tried to minimize the muffled sounds escaping from his throat. He was going to begin hyperventilating if he did not calm himself soon. But he couldn't.

He was safe now but what did that change? The feeling of safety that surrounded Albus Dumbledore made his pain all that more acute. His heart hurt and memories flashed by in dizzying swirls.

He felt lost in them. They grasped at the corners of his sub consciousness even as he struggled to push them off. _Dark, dank backgrounds of red, wet pain. Flashes of harsh fingers, pale and cold._ _Long strands of hair touching him, covering him, the color of platinum._ Suddenly, he wanted to scream.

Either that or vomit.

His skin itched. He would never be clean again. He knew it with startling clarity. He could feel it.

Were he able to move his hands, they would be unconsciously gouging deep scratches into his skin.

He debated opening his eyes. He didn't want to face them, he couldn't. He could not bear to see the disappointment, the pity that would be shining in their faces. He couldn't stand knowing that he had changed in their eyes. They weren't to be blamed. He had. Nothing would ever be the same again. He just couldn't face it—not yet.

So, safe in his soft, cotton cocoon and the enveloping darkness under his eyelids, he allowed sleep to come once again, praying for a dreamless sleep.

~~HPSS~~

_Hands grasped at his hair, pulling tight. His eyes watered at the pain. _

_Little whispers of pain could still be felt in his belly. They were ignored._

_His face had been smashed roughly into cold, sharp stones. His left eye throbbed and he knew there was going to be a fascinating bruise. _

_Stagnant water and slippery moss surrounded his face. It invaded his senses. He could taste it in his mouth. It burned in his, now, tightly closed eyes. His tears mixed with the earthy liquid. He swallowed the threatening bile rising from his stomach down. He couldn't breathe. He gasped for air—only managing to inhale the dubious contents of the ground. He choked and gasped for air, only to choke again. It was a vicious cycle. _

_Fingers pawed violently at his body. Rough and calloused, scratching at his skin. Paths of fire tore over his back as nails gouged down his spine._

_He could hear their laughter; rough and dark, high pitched and cold, stupid and loud, smooth and soft. There were so many. His eyes were tearing up with his humiliation as his trousers were gracelessly ripped off. He was surrounded. _

_His head spun and his eyes watered. He was drowning underneath them. He could not get out. _

_He bit back a panicked squeak as a wandering hand slid down his tailbone._

"_Enough."_

_A softly spoken word and all but one backed off._

_Cold fingers clutched at torn hips. Waves of silky hair fell over him like a morbid blanket as his predator leaned forward. He felt a hot, moist breath run over his ear._

"_I am going to enjoy this, Potter."_

_And it was then that the pain really began._

~~HPSS~~

His eyes flew open.

White ceiling tiles met his frightened gaze.

Mind scrambling and heart racing, Harry took several calming breaths.

You are in the Hogwarts Infirmary, he reminded himself. You are safe.

His chest was loosing its painful grip and his mind cleared enough for him to look around the room. There was no one in the room at present. He silently allowed a whisper of thanks float up to whatever gods were listening. He did not need people at this moment. He needed peace.

He spotted the bathroom that was at the end of the Infirmary. He bit his lip and peeked over to Madame Pomfrey's office door, contemplating a plan of action. To go or not to go?

Letting loose a soft sigh, Harry slowly slid his legs over the edge of the bed. He then gingerly placed his sore feet on the floor.

Shivering at the cold floor, Harry made his way haltingly over to the bathroom, using various objects as a handrail. His eyes shifted over to the Medi-witch's office door several times before he finally reached his destination.

Slipping quietly through the door, Harry allowed his facial features to relax in relief. He needed to take a shower. His skin still itched. It felt tight—like it was choking every part of his body. He fought against the urge to scratch the troublesome skin right off. The feeling needed to go away. It was either a shower or Madam Pomfrey's rage over self-mutilation. With that in mind, he slipped of his hospital robe and went over to the bathtub. His hands were shaking in anticipation. He needed it.

Hands turned on the shower to the hottest setting they could handle and swollen feet climbed into the shower stream.

Harry sighed. The water was painful but it was certainly medicinal. He could feel the metaphorical dirt sizzling away. His body heated up and the darkness that hid in the cold places was burned out. Sweat started to form on his face. It felt glorious.

After standing contentedly under the wonderful water for a few moments, Harry grasped the soap eagerly and started to viciously rub at his skin. It all had to come off. He needed to get rid of it. He could see it, feel it.

Hell, he could smell it.

And so he scrubbed.

Almost fearfully, Harry reached down between his legs. Here was where it was the filthiest. He prodded cautiously and was not surprised to find that although the ripped skin had been healed, it was sore. He stiffened his upper lip and started to clean the center of the filthiness. The center of his troubles.

~~HPSS~~

"Mister Potter! ... _Mister Potter!" _

Several sharp taps assaulted the oak door or the bathroom.

"Mister Potter, just _what_ do you think you are doing? Come out here this instant, young man! You are supposed to be in bed. Resting!"

Harry cringed at the Medi-Witch's furious voice. She was right outside the bathroom having, apparently, heard the water running. He reluctantly left his disinfecting water and sorrowfully turned off the spray. He then stepped out of the shower to put on his robe.

"Mister Potter?!"

A few more abusive raps.

"I am coming, Madame Pomfrey!" Harry attempted to call out. It, however, resulted in only a raspy whisper. It seemed his throat was rather not in its prime. He did not try again.

Instead, he hobbled over to the door as quickly as his body allowed and opened the door.

He was met with an unamused Medi-Witch.

If a hint of sympathy was found in the stoic woman's face, neither one of them felt the need to acknowledge it.

"Mister Potter", she said again in a quieter tone, "Get into bed this instant." But no less demanding.

Conjuring a quick wheel chair, she ushered him to sit and wheeled him over to his bed in a jiffy.

Once next to his bed, he maneuvered onto it without complaint.

She nodded stiffly once he was settled safely and addressed him.

"Mister Potter, you are to stay in that bed until further notice. Headmaster Dumbledore will be down here shortly to speak with you. If at any point, you feel tired and/or pained, you are to tell me immediately and I will remove him."

She looked right into his eyes.

"I believe the Headmaster will have much to tell you. It will be hard to deal with. I will be here as well. You _are _to notify me if necessary. Understood?"

Her tone brooked no argument.

Harry nodded dully despite the fear creeping up his spine. He didn't want to speak to Dumbledore. He was not ready to face it. And just what hard-to-deal-with news was he going to be given. He could feel his eyes start to glaze over as he tried to cut off his panicked feelings. Maybe, he should tell Madame Pomfrey that he was not up to it already.

But no, he needed to get it over with.

It was just like ripping off a band-aid, he reassured himself. It would be better soon.

…

He didn't believe himself either.

~~HPSS~~

"How are you feeling, my boy?"

Light blue eyes looked softly at him through half-moon spectacles. There was no hint of a twinkle. Harry could not remember the headmaster ever looking so somber.

His eyes tingled and threatened to tear. He felt empty. What was he supposed to say? That he was hurt and he feared he would never be the same? That, even though it was not rational, a little part of him felt betrayed by the fact that he had not been saved? He couldn't.

He continued to look at Albus Dumbledore with flat eyes.

An emotion that looked a lot like hurt flashed through the old man's face as the silence drew on. Guilt welled up in Harry's throat but he could not change anything. He hurt too bad.

A quiet exhale broke the painful silence as the headmaster went to speak again.

"As I am sure you are aware, the Death Eaters attacked during the Hogsmeade weekend. What I am _not _sure if you are aware of was that it was two weeks ago. No one else was hurt; it was a very specific mission. Your friends are very worried. Miss Granger and Mister Weasley tell me that you were swiftly knocked unconscious in front of Zonko's and were immediately apparated away by a couple of Death Eaters." He paused.

"Do you wish to tell me what happened, Harry?" He gently inquired.

Harry's eyes stayed where they were—staring at his lax hands.

Dumbledore nodded quietly and continued to speak.

"You were found in the Forbidden Forest by Hagrid. You were in a rather serious state. After a busy night, Madame Pomfrey has declared you as well as can be expected. She has informed me that you are most likely still very sore. Your shoes were not found with you. You seem to have run quite a distance without them. Therefore, Madame Pomfrey is determined for you to stay in bed until your feet are healed."

He paused again.

The conversation hurt Harry. He hated to see Dumbledore so obviously torn up. He had never seen his headmaster so… troubled. He wanted to say something. He wanted to reassure him. But what was he going to say: It's alright, let's pretend this never happened? A part of him never wanted to hear about his ordeal again. But another part of him had to know the things that had happened that he could not remember. It was physically torturous, not only for the content but for the tension in the room. Harry longed to help his professor; he longed to soothe his professor's obviously hurting heart. But he couldn't. He could not bring himself to lift his eyes.

He could not take the risk that they would start to water and overflow once he did.

His eyes stayed put.

"Harry, my boy, I fear there is something very… important that I must tell you." Dumbledore's voice was heavy with responsibility.

Harry's heart quickened its pace.

"When Madame Pomfrey was examining you, she found… something unusual. I must ask you, Harry, were you given… did you ingest anything while you were held captive?"

Harry's heart was racing. 'Ingest' something? A flash of the dank cell he was held in came to his mind. The cup. The pain. Yes, he had. It was not poison was it? After all, he did not die from it. The pain suggested that it was immediately acting if it was indeed a poison.

His guts twisted from anxiety. What _had_ it been?

"My boy? I fear it is gravely important to know."

Harry's head shot up. The headmaster leaned back slightly but then resumed his previous spot. He looked steadily at Harry, concern evident in his eyes.

Harry looked towards the headmaster but did not meet his eyes.

"Yes", he whispered hoarsely. "Yes, I did."

Glancing swiftly up at the headmaster's eyes, he glimpsed a confirmation in them. The headmaster had expected it.

Slowly, Dumbledore resumed. "Madame Pomfrey found a separate magical signature in your abdomen. We believe that you were given some sort of hermaphrodite potion. When this was further examined, Madame Pomfrey found that you now have a uterus in your body. And the uterus now has an… occupant."

Harry knew his eyes were blank.

"You are pregnant, Harry."


	2. Chapter 2

Pregnant?

Merlin, he was…. He was…

Harry's body was engulfed in a cold wave. He was pregnant. He was pregnant with…. With… _his_ child. God!

No! No, it was _not his…_. It… _was_ his. A baby. A baby… a child. Harry's child. Harry's?!

Harry's and _his….._

Harry felt a sob racing up his throat. He whimpered, ignoring Dumbledore's presence.

He was seventeen. Seventeen! He couldn't have a baby. He just couldn't. He still had four months until graduation. What was he going to do? He couldn't do this alone—he just couldn't.

He finally gave an audible sob. His eyes watered and his heart wrenched. Suddenly, the sobs came at full force, wracking his malnourished body. His head hurt, somewhere in the back of his mind he noted that the stress was making him dizzy and the world felt surreal. He felt as if his head was floating but he was being kept down by a huge weight in his shoulders.

He could feel Dumbledore get up and place a hand on his shoulder.

In his misery, he didn't stop to think of his headmaster's feelings as he callously shoved the hand off of him. The sobs continued with frightening strength. He couldn't breathe. He put his arms up to his face. He could feel hot tears pouring down his face and soaking the top of his hospital gown. His face felt hot and the air around him seemed to constrict. He gasped and inhaled with unhealthy speed. His chest rose and fell in shallow movements. He was getting light headed.

In the back of his mind he heard Albus calling for Madame Pomfrey. He couldn't stop. He couldn't handle it.

His arms were firmly grasped and pushed away from his face. A strong hand grasped his chin and poured something into his gasping mouth. He had no choice but to swallow. Harry sputtered and gulped, his chest still heaving from his sobs. He was left gasping for air.

Suddenly a calm washed over him. He gave a shuddering sigh and wrapped his arms around his thin body. He laid down as his head was still spinning and his heart was hammering. He stayed still for a few moments, steadying his breaths. He felt his eyes droop and his head sunk to his chest. His back and head were surrounded by a thick pillow. He felt warm and exhausted.

He blinked sleepily as he looked around him. He became aware of his surroundings.

He looked on as Madame Pomfrey scolded the headmaster with soft but biting words. He could see the headmaster nodding to the nurse sadly from his peripheral vision. He turned his head slightly and was shocked to see tears tracking down the wrinkled face. The nurse stopped and turned once more to her office.

Harry closed his eyes.

He knew the professor was staring at him. He wanted to be alone. It was better for him and the headmaster. Being here only hurt Dumbledore more.

After a few moments he heard the headmaster rise and walk a few steps toward his hospital bed.

"I am so sorry, my boy."

Albus placed a gentle hand on Harry's arm. Then the hospital room was empty.

~~HPSS~~

Harry woke from a tear induced nap when he heard another person enter the hospital room. Looking out the side of his eye, Harry could see that the sky was dark outside the room and he could barely see anything around him.

He squinted slightly as saw a dark figure walking towards the potions cabinet next to his bed.

"Professor?" Harry called.

As the figure turned towards him Harry recognized that the person was not the Headmaster, but was Professor Snape.

"Potter." Snape answered lowly with a curt nod.

Harry furrowed his brow. "What are you doing here?"

Snape gave a loud sigh. "I am refilling the numerous potions that you used up, Potter. Surely, you are aware someone has to do it."

Harry nearly winced at the professor's hard tone. There was no need for him to be so me—

Harry froze. Did he know? Oh God! Was he there? Did he see it? Harry's heart started to race and he could feel his breathing speed up with every second. Of course, he was there! He was a Death Eater. He went to all meetings, right? If he was there, why didn't he do something?

Tears pricked Harry's eyes and his head soon became light due to his rapid breathing.

"Potter!"

Harry heard a shout but his breathing was so loud and his head so light, it felt as though it were coming from miles away.

"Oh God!" Harry cried. "You know! You saw me… you saw him!"

Harry could barely comprehend what he was saying. Tears were streaking down his face and his head was so light headed it felt as if it would float away if it weren't attached to his neck.

Harry wailed. "You're here to laugh at me! It's _his_ baby, _his _demon spawn, and you know it! You know it!"

Harry's cries soon became incomprehensible and he knew he was blubbering inconsolably.

"Potter!"

Harry's face jerked and pain blossomed on his left cheek as he was swiftly struck by Snape's hand.

Harry was yanked back into reality by the harsh slap and he could feel his breathing slow to a normal pace. He continued to breathe slowly until he felt the airy feeling leave his head.

Had his face not already been red from exertion, Harry was sure his face would be beet red with mortification and misery.

Snape had stalked closer to the bed so that he could reach Harry's face. Harry just realized how close he was.

"Now you listen, Potter! Yes, I know. But no, I was _not_ there! And don't you dare impose the sins of the father onto the child, Potter! Being judged by what our parents' have done has never made anyone in this room very happy!"

Snape stalked out of the room with surprising speed and before Harry knew it, the door to the infirmary was slammed shut.

Harry was frozen.

Had Snape just admitted that Harry was not his father?

~~HPSS~~

When Harry woke next he felt sunlight beaming across his face. He opened his eyes and winced slightly.

His body felt marginally better but his eyes felt crusted over. He rubbed them furiously as the moments of yesterday drifted back to him.

A baby!

Oh Merlin.

…

Harry's hand flew to his still flat stomach. He looked down as he rubbed it softly. He could not believe that there was supposed to be another person in there.

Harry gave a tiny smile—the tips of his mouth twitched slowly as he thought of late last night.

A baby. _Harry's _baby.

He was going to be a father.

He was young… too young. However, a baby was a baby. Harry had always wanted a family and he would not be able to live with himself if he were to get an abortion. No… he would never do that.

He had felt so alone yesterday. Maybe it was true that everything looked better in the daylight. It was hard to be very gloomy with the sun shining so happily.

He was going to have a baby. That was that.

He had no clue what was going to happen. He didn't know how he was going to give birth. He had no idea what was happening to his body. He didn't know what he would do about Voldemort, about his schooling, about raising a child at seventeen. He didn't know how Ron and Hermione were going to react and he had successfully hurt Albus Dumbledore, a man he loved greatly.

However, all that paled in comparison to the fact that he was going to have a baby.

He had to look on the bright side, besides Voldemort, everything else was guaranteed to work out.

Dumbledore cared for Harry as much as Harry himself cared for the headmaster. Albus would not let Harry go through this alone. Harry smiled. If there was anyone that Harry wanted on his side, it would be that beloved old man.

Harry really needed to apologize. He needed to soothe the heart of a man he thought of as a grandfather. Harry knew it wasn't really Albus' fault and he knew the old man was blaming himself.

~~HPSS~~

Harry looked up when the door of the infirmary opened. His heart jumped when he saw his headmaster walking in with slight trepidation. Harry could feel his heart rate pick up and his hands sweat as he waited for the professor to come over and address him. He wanted to console Albus. He wanted everything to be better. He wanted a comforting embrace.

Dumbledore walked up to Harry's bedside and smiled softly down at him.

"Good morning, Harry."

Harry looked Albus in the eye. "Good morning, professor."

From the slight widening of the eyes and the hint of twinkle that returned to them, Harry correctly assumed that the headmaster was not expecting Harry to answer so cordially but was pleased none the less. Harry hinted a smile.

They sat in comfortable silence as they both decided what to say.

"How are you feeling, Harry?" The headmaster searched Harry's eyes for any sign of pain.

Harry smiled again. "I am feeling fine, sir."

Harry paused for a minute. "I want to apologize to you actually. Headmaster, I—"

Albus opened his mouth… probably to deny any fault of Harry. Harry shook his head quickly.

"No, sir. It's true that I was given quite a shock last night but I had no right to treat you so harshly. And… well… if I did, I still want to say that I am sorry and that I don't blame you at all."

Harry hesitated as he braced himself to tell him the truth. He held his head down as he spoke.

"I had a moment where I expected that you would come and find me, but, I realize that that was… very unfair of me. I know that you were doing all you could to find me. And I know that no one can be blamed for this but Voldemort so… I just want you to know that I… I understand. I was so upset last night and I was so confused. Everything hurt and I felt so alone. But I don't…. I won't give up this baby. It's my baby and I would prefer not to be… pregnant but, I can do it. I am hoping that I won't be alone in this. And if I am not alone, I know I can do it."

Harry looked up when Dumbledore failed to answer.

His eyes widened when he saw the headmaster's face. Tears were falling gently down the old man's face—falling into his beard.

"Sir…?"

A sad smile cracked Albus' face. Harry looked at him confused.

"Harry, my boy, I am so proud of you."

Harry froze as the old man leaned over and held Harry in a warm embrace. His spine was stick straight until the warmth of Albus' arms seeped into his abused body. Harry melted into the hug and squeezed back.

He needed to thank Snape.

~~HPSS~~

"Harry!"

Harry looked up from his food tray at the cry. He smiled widely as he saw a bushy head rushing over to him.

"Hermione…"

He barely had time to breathe out her name before his breath was forcefully expelled from his lungs by an exuberant girl.

"Harry! Harry, are you okay?! Ron and I have been so worried. You disappeared and we didn't know what to do. What happened, Harry?"

"Bloody hell, Hermione. Give the bloke some air. He's turning blue."

Harry gasped in some air as the constricting pressure was relieved from his diaphragm.

"Oh! Sorry Harry! Ron and I were just so worried!"

Sure enough, as Harry looked over to his red-haired best friend, blue eyes looked at Harry with worry. However, whether that was due to his kidnap or Hermione's near murder attempt, Harry wasn't quite sure.

"She's right, mate. What happened to you?" Ron walked over to the chair next to the bed and leaned forward, Hermione remained on Harry's hospital bed.

Harry bit his lip.

"What has Dumbledore told you so far?"

Hermione immediately answered, clearly distressed. "Nearly nothing, Harry. We know you were kidnapped by the Death Eaters but we don't know how you escaped… Or what happened to you. Are you honestly all right, Harry?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, Hermione. I am fine. I was… hurt a bit while I was there but most of the injuries came from my escape."

He sensed she was going to interrupt again and held up his hand.

"I don't know exactly how I escaped. I wasn't… in the right mind at the time. I… I was focused on escaping... I think I might of apparated or something. I remember running as fast as I could though. I know I arrived in the Forbidden Forest. How… I am not sure."

Ron broke in.

"But, mate, are you _okay?_"

Harry paused. Sometimes it amazed him how much Ron knew about people's feelings—as crazy as that sounds.

"I was…" How in heavens name did one approach this kind of situation? He wasn't even sure he wanted them to know. It hurt too much to think about it and he, personally, thought he might be in a bit of denial when it came to the how's of the pregnancy. He knew it probably was not too healthy to block out his ordeal but that was simply the only way that he was able to handle it. Harry was, frankly, hoping that he could think about it when time healed the emotional wounds a bit more.

"Mate?"

Harry looked up to the worried faces of his best friends. Yes, he would tell them. They deserved to know, didn't they?

"I was locked away in a dark room, for how long, I don't know. I remember drinking something and then this unbelievable pain came to my stomach. I… I was led to this big room with all the Death Eaters."

He sobbed and Hermione clutched at his hand, rubbing the back.

"They kept grabbing at me. They tore off my clothes. And then… _he_ came and…. And he…"

Harry couldn't continue as he started sobbing heavily.

"Oh Harry!" Hermione gasped, horrified. She dropped his hand and threw her arms around his shaking body.

Ron's heart clenched.

"Mate," Ron whispered, barely being heard over Harry's cries."Mate, did he…?"

Hermione threw a glare over her shoulder as she shook her head for him to shut up.

Ron swallowed deeply as he looked at his hurt best mate.

Harry did not know how long he sobbed for but sooner or later, his sobs slowed to sniffles and long, shuddering breaths occasionally broke the silence. Hermione continued to rock his exhausted form.

When Harry had regained his weak composure, he sat up and looked at his friends' in the eye.

"It was horrible," Harry said, his voice hoarse. "I felt so alone… so vulnerable."

Hermione listened patiently as she occasionally dabbed her wet eyes. Ron was so close to the bed he was nearly sitting on it. Ron's hands were balled into fists, his knuckles white.

"That thing I drank, it was a potion. The headmaster told that… that potion made me, I don't know, have some different parts."

Hermione's eyes widened. She always was a smart witch. "No…"

Harry nodded. Seeing Ron's confused gaze he continued.

"It made me able to become… pregnant."

Ron leaped up, adding two plus two.

"What?! Mate, Mate, you're…?!"

Harry winced and looked down at his clenched hands.

"Ron!" Hermione pushed Ron back into his chair. She turned to Harry.

"Harry… Harry, you poor thing." She crooned as she leaned forward once again to gently rock Harry.

"Harry, you know we will both be with you no matter what. Right? Nothing will ever change that." Hermione's voice had grown to a sincere whisper.

Ron piped in.

"Yeah, mate, no matter what."

Harry smiled with relief. He loved them so much. Why had he doubted them? He looked up.

"Thanks guys. You…. You have no idea how badly I needed to hear that."

Hermione gave a tremulous smile.

"Are you going to keep it?"

Harry's eyes shot to hers. "Of course, I am!"

Hermione gave a bigger smile. "There is no need to shout, Harry. I didn't want to assume."

Harry nodded slowly. "Yes, I am. The baby is mine. I couldn't possibly."

Ron was still blinking away his shock over knowing Harry was pregnant. "Well, the little tyke is just going to have to deal with you as a dad, I suppose. Poor kid."

Harry glared at Ron. "Hey!"

Ron laughed, glad that he had received the reaction he wanted. "I suppose if you ever want some help, I could lend some." He gave a long-suffering sigh. "I am amazing with kids."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Ron."

Ron perked up. "Hey, does this make me a godfather?!"

Hermione brightened and looked at Harry expectantly.

Harry smiled.


End file.
